Only Human (long story)
by Die Einzelganger
Summary: With Kaiba Corporation's technology and the invention of a medical research team, a clone is created for Kaiba Seto. This story is based on the one-shot I had previously written and uploaded. Originally planned as Moneyshipping but feels more like Guardshipping so far. There is also a shameless and persistent Shingeki no Kyojin reference in there. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**I**

Isono would not openly admit it, but he had taken to the clone almost from the earliest moments of their acquaintance. Having been a confidant and loyal employee to his Seto-sama for almost eight years and now entrusted with an exact likeness of him created with the sole purpose of becoming a faithful imitation of that beloved original, one may say that Isono had been somewhat predisposed to liking _Seto._ He was also, perhaps, the only one who approached the poor creature with anything like genuine affection. The medical team regarded him as a pinnacle of modern scientific achievement and an exciting specimen, but made no actual effort to emotionally bond with him as dictated by strict professionalism, and Kaiba had made it clear from the very beginning that he was only seeking a reliable substitute in his business affairs. As for Mokuba, he thought the replica an abomination and pointedly kept his distance, angered and confused by the idea of a permanent, resident impersonator of Nii-sama, some strange freak with cameras in his eyes.

Fortunately for Seto, he inspired compassion and kindness quite easily in a man who used to have no means of doting on the first but was now put in full custody of the second. Isono and Kaiba were escorted by the medical team to see him a few hours after he had been awakened from suspended animation, and the first sight of Seto sitting in the bed of his holding cell in nothing but an operating gown, one hand propping him up and the other gripping the sheets to his chest made a lasting impression on Isono's mind.

"Well, here he is," announced Hanji, lead medical engineer of the team who considered Seto their own personal pet project, with a strong emphasis on _pet_. Seto scooted ever so slightly backwards, his arm brushing the wall. "Hasn't said a word yet but I'm pretty sure he can talk, can't you?"

Seto seemed not to have heard Hanji, his eyes wide and completely transfixed on Kaiba. He had seen himself in the mirror shortly after his awakening and was told of what he was and what visitors were coming, but the shock of meeting his own reflection, or rather, the idea that he himself was the reflection would have silenced him even if he had been talkative before. Kaiba stood his gaze, his own expression carefully guarded. He had inspected Seto in the suspension pod several times and had seen his own virtual effigies before; and even if he had not, if this had been the very first occasion, Kaiba would have still been determined to keep his countenance and establish himself as the superior of the two. Hanji let out a chuckle.

"You had to get your good looks from somewhere," they said, obviously teasing and evidently failing to lighten the mood – Kaiba's stare grew colder and Seto tensed his shoulders.

"Well go on then, get up and say hello," pressed Hanji, moving closer. Seto swallowed, his neck stiff and his throat tight, but seemingly distressed by the idea of any physical persuasion to do as he was told, he softened his grip on the sheets and two long legs began to wiggle free from beneath, bare feet dangling awkwardly as he prepared for his first actual attempt to stand. Since his awakening he had either been laying on the operating table or sitting in a wheelchair to be carted from one testing module to the next; the sensation of now towering above all but the Other was new and, although strange, it was not unwelcome. Isono and Kaiba stood side by side, making the decision of which to approach easier – Kaiba was the more interesting of the two, but Isono seemed less intimidating than anyone else Seto had seen thus far. And so he made his first step towards the pair of them… and immediately came hurtling forward as his knees buckled under the weight they were now obliged to carry. Isono's reflexes were sharp as ever and he launched forward to catch him and spare him the complete humiliation of his first failed endeavor; Seto instinctively clung to him, eyes large and breath quick.

"Opp opp opp," chuckled Hanji. "Legs are still asleep, are they? You'll be fine in a couple of hours."

"Does he have anything acceptable to wear?" asked Kaiba in an even tone, allowing himself only a cursory glance at his clone as Isono steadied him. Seto tensed up completely, the first sears of shame keenly felt through and through. He turned his head sharply away from the others as Isono ushered him back to the bed, one arm gently wrapped around his slender frame.

"Are you alright, Sir?" he asked quietly. Seto's eyes widened.

_Your name will be Seto. Nice name, eh? It belongs to Kaiba Seto, CEO of Kaiba Corporation. As long as you're alive, that's the only name you'll need. We originally called you HXC37-A001 but I suppose you're human now and normal people don't care to memorize strings of code anyway, aha ha. You'll get used to it. That's what everyone will call you from now on. Don't expect any grand titles, though. You're not Kaiba-sama, after all._

Kaiba was too preoccupied with arranging removal and last-minute details with Hanji to pay any attention to his clone's first words, uttered to Isono in a soft whisper with his eyes self-consciously lowered to the floor.

"No. I would like to go home," he said, hardly knowing what _home_ meant but feeling, deep inside, that it was exactly the thing he wanted.


	2. Chapter 2

**II**

"You will be taken home shortly, Sir," Isono reassured the clone, and prodded by soft pangs of how vulnerable this Seto looked, already self-aware with so little history or authority to shield him, he added, in a kind tone, "and I will assist you in anything you need."

There was a small pause in search of the appropriate words. "…Thank you."

"Isono," came Kaiba's voice, barely raised but immediately commanding his employee's full and undivided attention. Seto lifted his head, curious yet apprehensive of what would come next. "I have a few more arrangements to discuss with Hanji. Have him dress and then wait for us."

Kaiba's words were promptly followed by the entrance of another employee carrying a neatly folded pile of clothes previously prepared for Seto. The white briefs sitting on top made Kaiba divert his gaze to some invisible blemish on the opposite wall, but Seto could not take his eyes off what he believed would be his first material possessions, boring though they were: dark trousers, a plain white dress shirt, a white undershirt, black socks and underwear. A pair of smart black shoes were soon produced to complete the ensemble and Kaiba took this as his cue to depart with Hanji. Seto was still staring at the clothes left on his bed when the door closed behind them, one hand subconsciously tugging at a loose fold of his operating gown. Isono let out a modest cough.

"Shall I turn away while you dress, Sir?" he asked, stepping away from the bed with his hands tucked behind his back. The clone shrugged his shoulders. While his failed attempt at walking to greet and impress the Other had made him flush with shame, the idea of being seen naked had no negative connotation in his mind – the medical team had touched, held, dressed and examined him as though the lack of clothes made no difference at all and having been heavily sedated in the first two hours of his life, Seto had little clarity of mind to form a firm opinion on the subject. He slowly lifted his arms to untie what he felt must be a knot in the back right at the base of his neck, but his arms were still not used to such extensive exercise and would not bend far enough. He twisted his wrists, long fingers prodding for reach but to no avail. Isono could not help his smile but quickly smoothed it out not to embarrass his charge.

"May I help, Sir?" he asked, voice low and gentle. Seto nodded once, twice, arms dropping smoothly to his sides and his eyes lowered again. Isono allowed his smile to slip back as he approached him again and gingerly cupped Seto's shoulders to turn him around. The clone complied without a sound and straightened his back from its defeated haunch, and so Isono's fingers plucked up and disentangled the first ribbon.

It was not _very_ unpleasant, being undressed. As more ribbons were untied, the gown began to droop outwards and slip from those thin shoulders, and the lower it sank, the more Seto began to take interest in his own form, leaning backwards by degrees to look down at himself. He inspected his chest and quirked a brow at his small, flat nipples, stared at the taut wrinkles of his stomach and into the diamond well of his navel. The last ribbon brought Isono uncomfortably close to his backside, but Seto dreaded it not – indeed he wished it. The very moment that final ribbon was undone, he pulled the gown away from himself completely, letting it fall to the floor in a crinkled heap so that he could admire the sharp ridges of his pelvis, the paleness of his thighs and the contours of his genitalia. He thought the latter rather ugly compared to the smooth evenness of his legs, but hoped it wasn't abnormal. His lingering stare at it, the way he slowly shifted his thighs apart in curiosity made Isono color.

"Do you need assistance with your new clothes, Sir?" he asked, his voice thick. Seto blinked at him as if woken from a dream and finally turned his attention to the pile by his side, mulling over the question as he picked up the briefs. They looked simple enough. He gave them a few light tugs and marveled at the elastic band.

"I will try it myself first. …Thank you," he said, lowering his first pair of underwear all the way down to his dangling feet and guiding them into the holes. He pulled them up, tugging them carefully over his knees to the top of his thighs, and then realized he was forced to stand, but as much as he dreaded it, his knees endured long enough for him to pull them up in one fluid motion. He quickly sank back onto the bed and made a few careful attempts at tucking himself comfortably. He failed.

"It isn't very comfortable," he said at last, staring at his front in disappointment. Isono felt he had been staring at the ceiling for ages.

"Underwear tends to be more functional than comfortable, Sir," came the diplomatic reply.

"I think it should be both," mused Seto but pursued the subject no more. He slipped on his socks instead and thought they made his legs looked severed from the ankle and his feet like large black clumps. He wiggled his toes absent-mindedly. Isono let out an amused hum.

"Are your socks comfortable, Sir?" he teased, a little abashed at his own nerve, but Seto merely replied that they were tolerable and then, in that same low voice that spoke of _home_, requested help with the rest. Isono obliged him and fit his arms into the sleeveless undershirt, coaxed his mile-long legs into the trousers and tucked the dress shirt neatly around his frame, carefully doing up the buttons that Seto's fingers were not yet nimble enough to manage. Finally, he asked Seto to sit for just a little while longer and kneeled to his feet, comically large in contrast to that childlike look of awe on the young man's face as Isono slipped on and tied his shoes.

"You are ready, Sir," he said at last, rising up and retreating to the other end of the small holding cell to admire his handiwork. Seto gave himself a thorough glance, gripped the edge of the bed and carefully shifted onto his feet. One hand quickly slithered to the wall as the other let go of the bed, and Isono watched Seto take his first shuffling steps, each a small victory for someone who had not been conscious for more than three hours… and as he did, Isono was slowly filled with a sense of warm, almost fatherly pride in his charge. Seto looked so well, awkward yet holding every promise of commanding respect and a graceful stride in time, and when Seto reached the other side on his own and cracked a smile for the first time in his life, Isono seized the moment and took his hand.

"Congratulations, Sir," he said and shook it, and though Seto could not immediately place the concept of the handshake, his smile widened into a helpless grin that Isono was certain he had never seen on Kaiba Seto's face in his life.

* * *

"As you know, the ocular implant had been implanted seven days ago while he was still in suspended animation," said Hanji as they escorted Kaiba to one of the laboratory tables upon which rested a laptop and what appeared to be a small, portable hard drive. "We have monitored the healing process and the operation was successful. He has been conditioned never to touch his eyes since such pressure and friction may damage or dislodge the nano camera. This device," continued Hanji, gesturing to the small machine that they now plugged into the laptop with a USB cable, "tracks and receives transmissions from the nano camera and is capable of recording the audiovisual data on microchips that regular computers cannot decipher. This is to ensure maximum security of the data and the specimen. We would like to request at least some data to study his behavior—"

While Hanji spoke, the decoding software was initiated and the device lit up, and Kaiba, who was expecting a quick overview of the user interface, was met in the next moment with live footage of Seto's hand removing what appeared to be a plastic gown and exposing an exact replica of Kaiba's own genitals on screen. Kaiba froze. The camera lingered. Hanji tried and failed to suppress laughter.

"Perhaps not _this_ particular footage," snickered Hanji, unable to feign nonchalance at the mixture of embarrassment, horror and fascination that glued Kaiba's eyes to the screen until his employee finally took mercy on him and turned off the device.


	3. Chapter 3

**III**

At that point, only a few more details remained to be sorted to the general relief of all parties involved: the quick overview of the user interface that was interrupted by Seto's first inquiries into human male anatomy, a summarizing report of all tests conducted on his body and obligatory prescriptions for eye drops. Kaiba refused to look at Hanji throughout and acknowledged all new information and proposed measures with barely perceivable nods of the head; his patience had already been too far tried and he could not think of his clone's purely incidental mishap with anything but abhorrence. The idea that those genitals had been viewed, studied and even touched by the medical team in the course of examinations, though perhaps once registered, had clearly no longer crossed his mind.

Meanwhile, Seto continued to practice in the holding cell, minding his feet and posture. Isono lent his encouragement and proved easy to please; indeed he would have found it difficult not to indulge in Seto's attempts as small triumphs enabled by his own kindness and assistance. Hanji and the medical team may have made and prepared him, but Isono rightfully felt himself the more active parent in those moments. He observed Seto's every move with fond alertness, though there was something in his awed glances, the bite of his lip that pained him, and soon Isono found himself wishing fervently and against all rational hope that no harm would ever befall this Seto like the Original that had suffered so much.

Seto took another step and paused, shooting a glance at Isono.

"…Sir?"

"They told me I was named after Him," began Seto, shifting from one foot to the other. Isono quirked a brow, inclining his head. "Do I call him Seto, then?"

"…I suppose, Sir, that you might want to call him Kaiba. He would prefer it that way."

"Just Kaiba…? Shouldn't he be called Kaiba-sama?"

Isono flinched.

"No, Sir," he replied, his voice subdued and quiet. "His adoptive father was _Kaiba-sama_. His employees call him Seto-sama or refer to him as Kaiba Seto, but I believe you need not be as formal as we are, Sir. You will be more of a colleague to him."

"A colleague," echoed Seto. His eyes slipped to the floor again and the silence swelled until the words, "I wanted to impress him but I failed," burst out of him and dissolved into bitter gusts of air. "He wouldn't even look at me afterwards."

"He is impatient to take you home, Sir," said Isono, hoping he did not stray far from the truth. "I'm sure he will act differently once he is in the privacy of his own house."

He hoped to dispel the doubt that clouded Seto's features but speculation could not pierce it, and so he was obliged to add what he thought was an undeniable fact and say, "And I am absolutely certain that he _is_ impressed by the fact that you are alive and healthy, and have made such progress in so little time. I do not think there is anyone alive who would not be impressed by you."

He realized too late that the last part was a gross exaggeration, but Seto humored him and forced his lips into the tense carving of a smile.

"My body is a miracle of science," he quoted Hanji, conscious of the certainty of this fact yet feeling none of the warmth that budding self-worth should have endowed him with. "And that's it."

Isono nodded. He did not know what to say.

* * *

A few minutes later, the door of the holding cell unlocked with a metallic click and slid open to reveal Kaiba and Hanji, the latter sporting a hefty briefcase. Kaiba placed one foot forward but did not enter, and when he lifted his eyes, he could not quite control his glare as the memory of the embarrassing incident rushed through his mind, sparking cold flares of anger. Seto was struck by the contrast between his former indifference and what he could only suppose was some form of hatred; he shrunk backwards, shoulders hunched and hands clenching aimlessly by his thighs. Kaiba's voice cut the air like a knife.

"Let's go," was all he said, immediately turning his back on them and marching off. Hanji had been starched up into seeming gravity, but as soon as Kaiba looked no more, their lips widened into a shameless grin, lifting the briefcase for Isono to take. They were promptly relieved of it a moment later and were now free to approach Seto, cupping his arms in a fond grasp of engineered muscle and artificially induced skin.

"You're all grown up," they said, beaming as they squeezed his arms. "Good luck."

As Hanji released him and stepped aside, Seto hesitated for a moment, wrestling with a fear he could not readily name from his lexicon, but between staying here and joining Isono, the latter won without contest. Seto bowed his head, hands rigidly held by his sides and then made an awkward dash after Isono, legs straining not to collapse.

"Don't be strangers now!" Hanji cried after him, chuckling to hide their disappointment at having lost their favorite object.

Seto found Isono in the hallway and nearly collided with him in an effort to catch up. Isono was fortunately more than prepared to lend his arm and support his charge on the final stretch to the elevator where Kaiba Seto stood with his arms folded across his chest.

They entered the elevator a moment later and Seto obediently shuffled into the corner farthest from the Other, but it was not to be. As soon as the doors closed on them, Kaiba pressed down and then stepped over. Seto glanced at his face but found no relief in his features. Kaiba slipped a hand into his pocket.

"Put these on and try to act natural," he said as he pulled out a pair of large dark sunglasses and held them up. Seto plucked them from his fingers, turning them about in confusion.

"Put them on."

It took Seto a moment to figure out just how he was to put them on, but when he did, his flinch was so violent that the sunglasses dropped to the floor.

_Don't touch your eyes NEVER TOUCH YOUR EYES if you touch your eyes they will HURT so horribly YOU WILL WISH YOU DIDN'T EXIST and they will NOT STOP HURTING until I take a scalpel and CUT UP YOUR EYES to fix them TERRIBLE things will happen if you TOUCH your EYES DON'T TOUCH YOUR EYES NEveR toUCh YoUR eyES—_

"Seto."

Seto jerked his head up, his face frozen in a grimace. His fingers clenched aimlessly as he watched Isono obediently reach for the sunglasses and pick them up. He held them out for Seto to take. Kaiba's glare was icy.

"Put them on."

"Don't touch your eyes, _never touch your eyes_," blurted Seto, instinctively shoving Isono's hands away, but the moment he did, Kaiba snatched the sunglasses out of his employee's hold and forced them roughly into Seto's shaking hands. His clone was crushed into the corner; his heart jolted visibly under the shirt.

"_Put them on,_" snapped Kaiba.

"…They won't touch your eyes, Sir. They will protect them," spoke Isono, his voice low and soothing. He pinched up his own sunglasses by the hinge, pulled them down the ridge of his nose and then slowly back up to demonstrate. Kaiba rolled his eyes and stepped aside. Isono closed the distance.

"May I, Sir?"

He needed to pry Seto's fingers off first, curled around the glasses like claws, but managed to secure the sunglasses with little difficulty (much surprised that they were still intact), and gingerly guided the tips towards Seto's ears. The clone jerked his head backwards, bashing the back of his head against the wall, and that was where all resistance ended. He merely screwed his eyes shut, hands trembling helplessly by his chest as the sunglasses slipped on.

"You can open your eyes, Sir," came Isono's voice, but it took a while longer before Seto's eyelids grew tired and fluttered open of their own accord. Isono had taken care to place the glasses as far from his eyes as he was able; those long lashes swept up and down but did not brush against the lens. Seto's mouth opened in a small O. It was as though someone had poured ink on his world.

"Finally," growled Kaiba, reaching up to open the elevator at last. "Isono. Keep him close to you and don't let him turn around."

"Yes, Sir."


	4. Chapter 4

**IV**

Kaiba walked out first, approaching the guards of the underground parking lot at a slow, innocent pace while Isono instructed Seto in a hushed voice to comb his hair back with his fingers as far as possible to look different from the Other. The guards saluted Kaiba and informed him that the premises were safe. Kaiba casually remarked that the two people coming through are with him. That was their cue.

"Follow me, Sir, and don't look around," whispered Isono.

They strolled through, the guards giving them but a cursory glance. Seto could barely see in the glasses and anxiety made him shrink; in Kaiba's all-commanding presence, he and Isono were equally bland and undistinguished. Thankfully, nobody saw Seto reaching out to pinch up a fold of Isono's jacket; the further they went, the less he could see but dared not take off his glasses.

"Is home very far away?" he asked, keeping his voice down.

"Fifteen minutes by car, Sir."

"Will I like home?"

This gave Isono pause. He had been charged with remodeling one of the upper stairs master bedrooms into an apartment for Seto and he had done everything in his power to make the new residence habitable and functional, but all the construction work in the world cannot fashion dead space into a home unless it becomes a place of comfort and safety, and he as of yet felt incapable of vouching for either.

"I hope you will, Sir," he replied, suppressing a sigh.

"Get in the car," came Kaiba's voice behind them, impatient once again. Isono quickly opened the back door for Seto and helped the young man shift into his seat, but the moment he stepped back, Kaiba reached out himself to slam the door shut. Isono closed his eyes.

"_Sir_."

Kaiba was about to open the right front door but stopped abruptly at the tone.

"Isono." His employee cleared his throat.

"If you will permit me, Seto-sama," he began, cautious yet adamant, "your clone has only been alive for a few hours. He is still very young compared to you, he has no family, and he has just been entered into the custody of a stranger who has complete power over him."

Kaiba's eyes narrowed, his lips drawn into a cold sneer. Isono adjusted his glasses.

"Perhaps, Sir, you should consider being more patient with him. He is already very conscious of the fact that he has failed to impress you."

Kaiba lowered his head, his hands clenching into fists as his eyes leveled the ground. Isono performed a bow and kept his posture. Kaiba let out a small sigh.

"Take us home, Isono," he spoke at last, turning around. He walked to the left back door, opened it more carefully than he had shut the other, and slipped inside without another word. Isono allowed himself a relieved smile as he crossed at the front to get into the driver's seat.

They found Seto scooted as close to the door as possible, arms in his lap and feet tucked firmly together. It was the end of October; after the optimal temperature of the pod and the relative warmth of the holding cell, the parking lot and the car seemed unnaturally cold to him. Yet even so, had the weather been hot as sunny summer, he would have rather endured his current discomfort than sit nearer to Kaiba. He felt it very evident that the Other did not like him.

Kaiba could guess the reason of Seto's reserve and for a moment almost scolded himself for it. Isono's comparison inflicted serious injury – the very idea that such a comparison had to be made mortified him. He would not allow it. Any possible resemblance shall and must be prevented.

"Seto," he said, his voice softened from its usual hard lilt. His clone lifted his head ever so slightly but would not budge otherwise. "You may take off your glasses."

Seto did find the glasses taxing at this point; his world was cold and dark and he felt he should be glad if it were just cold. His hands, however, could not oblige him, still fearing the approach of his eyes. Kaiba sighed.

"Here," he said, lifting his own hands towards him. Seto reeled back and once again hit his head against the inside of the car, letting out a small hiss as Kaiba reached for and gingerly slid the glasses off his ears. Seto unscrewed his eyes. The world was still dark, but not the pitch black blindness of moments ago. He glanced around to note the differences, eyes carefully lowered from the Other.

"You will be taken to the Kaiba Mansion," began Kaiba, figuring that new information would eventually dissolve the tension or at the very least convert it into healthy curiosity. "Isono has prepared an apartment for you inside the Mansion and it will be your home as long as you live. It has been modernized and fitted with every necessary convenience and I expect you to spend the majority of your time there while you are on the Mansion grounds."

Seto nodded, lips parting to ask if Isono lived at the mansion. Kaiba failed to notice and carried on.

"There is one person you have not met yet. My younger brother Mokuba lives at the Mansion as well and he is the only living relative I've got, my only family. He means everything to me. Therefore, he must be at least as important and dear to you. He has his… reservations about your person, which is natural since you are a stranger to him. You must be on your best behavior so that he may warm up to you. I should like to see you two on good terms, even though you must remember that he is not _your_ brother. You, of course, have no conception of what it means to be a brother so that can make no difference to you."

_It means having a family_, thought Seto, hardly knowing why that idea gave him a bitter chill in the pit of his stomach. Of course he has no family. The team never made them.

"And Seto," continued Kaiba, his voice now growing authoritative and tense, "I must have you understand that Mokuba means the world to me and I would do _anything_ to ensure his safety. If you so much as lay one finger on him, we will be forced to terminate you on sight."

"Sir..!" cried Isono in the front. The car skidded for a moment.

"I suggest you pay attention to the road, Isono, unless you mean to get all three of us killed right now," replied Kaiba, leaving no room for argument. Isono shot a worried glance at Seto in the rearview mirror and then stared ahead again, his hands clutching the steering wheel unnecessarily tight.

Seto sat frozen in his seat. _Terminate._ 'To end' – to end _him_ on sight. Hanji told him how he was grown from a microscopic clump of cells; that must have been his beginning, but there was now so much of him – would ending him mean hacking away at this body until nothing remained, not even those tiny cells? Would they really do that if he so much as touched Mokuba? The idea was horrifying. What if he touched him accidentally, brushed up against him? Would they cut off his hand? Would they touch his eyes…?

"Seto." Seto's breathing had grown shallow, his arms now protectively curled around his own frame. Kaiba straightened and fixed his eyes on the road. "Believe me that it would be a severe loss to us all and that is why I want to prevent it at all costs. We have no intention of harming you while you belong to us. It is in your best interest to never, ever give us a reason."

The moment the silence became definite, Seto quickly turned his head to the window, unable to look at either of them, and Isono drove on in bitter silence, fighting feelings he felt too old for and wishing fruitlessly that Seto-sama had never come with him at all.


	5. Chapter 5

**V**

The rest of the car ride was quiet and foreboding, racing at a steady, inexorable pace towards the Mansion and Mokuba.

At first the silence and Seto's anxiety were so overwhelming that all thoughts beyond impending doom were flushed out of his mind. Isono felt the shame of Kaiba's retort deeply and resolved to turn his full attention to the road not to endanger them, and Kaiba himself made no attempts at reviving conversation. But as the initial terror started to disperse, Seto inevitably began to contemplate the idea of _Mokuba_… and to his surprise, his mind conjured up an image that Seto had not been aware existed: a photograph of a young teenager with long dark hair and large dark blue eyes – just over 13 years old as of July 7 according to the data bank planted inside Seto's head. He had been focusing too hard on Kaiba at the time to allow his mind to process and access information, but now the magic word of _Mokuba_ had opened up more and more details._ Mother died during his birth. Blood type O. Vice President of Kaiba Corporation_. _Capsule Monster Chess Champion_. There was a locket around his neck in the photo – just like the one the Other was wearing today. Seto furrowed his brow but his mind could not tell him what was inside the lockets. Perhaps it meant nothing. Perhaps it meant everything.

His new revelations left Seto puzzled: why did they think he would hurt Mokuba? He seemed harmless in that picture, such a friendly, happy looking child, and while Seto felt no attachment to him, he assumed that someone as grave and cold as the Other would not speak lightly of their feelings, not say "he means everything to me" unless it was the absolute truth, and a child that inspired such feelings was in all likelihood very worthy of them. This gave Seto momentary comfort: perhaps if the child liked him, he would not have to fear being killed while he was at the Mansion. The world was so large and Seto had hardly seen any of it yet, or even fully known the contents of his own head; if by nothing else, he was persuaded by the ardent colors of autumn trees and the silhouettes of mountains in the distance that he did not wish to die just yet.

Another winding turn brought them just within view of the Mansion and the grounds, coaxing Seto's jaw to drop in awe. It seemed very fine and positively enormous, and the moment that fact registered, more followed from some unknown recess of his mind: the number of the rooms, members of the staff, facilities on the grounds and a house floor plan that did not incorporate the apartment that was spoken of – Seto guessed it would be up to him to update his data bank upon their arrival. It took him a while to realize that the Mansion and all its comforts catered to three or four people at most if he were to add Isono and himself, and the idea struck him as surreal. The rooms inside his head could have accommodated many times their number. He was forced to conclude that this was beyond his understanding.

At last they pulled into the driveway and Kaiba turned towards Seto again, lifting the sunglasses to put them on. Seto pulled back to the wall of his seat, eyes screwed shut and hands flinching as Kaiba slipped the sunglasses on. It all felt less imposing than the last time, or so he thought; while not very comfortable, he felt he could endure them for a while longer. Isono opened the door for him and offered a hand to help him out of the car.

"You are to wear sunglasses and call as little attention to yourself as possible while the two of us appear together in the same space," said Kaiba as he rose from his seat and shut the door on his side. "You may take them off once we are inside – the staff has been dismissed for the day so there is no need to hide from anyone at present."

Seto lowered his eyes, hands curling into idle fists. He was not to be seen by staff then, and if they intend to make him stay inside the apartment for the majority of his time, his solitary confinement would be complete indeed. Chances of Isono, obviously not a member of staff living on the grounds seemed to grow less and less – the only hope that Seto now dared entertain was that Mokuba might like him, and if he did, perhaps there would be company on lonely evenings, a _not-brother_ that was still better than no family at all.

Long legs began to sweep the paved path towards the main entrance. Seto's heart was in his throat. Isono disabled the alarm, the combination flashing in Seto's mind.

"Let's go," said Kaiba, stepping inside, and Seto followed him half reluctant, half expectant into the vast spaces of grandeur, the intimidating arches of stairwells that seemed excessive, ridiculous, oppressive to someone who had never commanded anything larger than a one-person holding cell. Seto could hardly see a thing and attempted, of his own accord, to reach up and take his glasses off. His hands jerked away and Isono was there a moment later to relieve his darkened eyesight.

They seemed to be alone in the hallway except for a small peeking shadow by one of the archways that Seto noticed a moment too late, just as Isono had guided him to Kaiba's side and the two stood together, apparently identical except for their clothes.

"Mokuba."

The younger brother skulked forward from his hiding place, posture tense and eyes flashing. He took a step closer and no more, his features remaining distant and ill-defined until he spoke and the sharpness of his tone brought them into painful relief.

"He looks just like you – how will I be able to tell that he is not you?"

His voice was crackling with bitter anger that left Seto stunned, so much so that Kaiba could easily reach for and pull up his arm, pressing his hand backwards to keep it still.

"He has an identification mark on the inside of his wrist," spoke Kaiba, evidently satisfied with the chosen method of differentiation. "He will show you his wrist on command."

Mokuba tensed his shoulders, eyes narrowing, and hissed, "Freak."

"Mokuba.." began Kaiba, sounding little more than annoyed, but that word was the gateway and his little brother could be placated no more.

"He's a _freak!_ He's got cameras in his eyes! How do I know that he's not recording me right now?! How do I know that he won't try and take your place someday?! I told you not to do it and now he's here. He could kill you in your sleep and nobody would know! Why does he have to live here?! _I hate it!_ _I HATE IT!_" he spat and bolted off to get away from them, his steps echoing down the hall until the hard slam of a door put an end to them. Kaiba twisted his mouth, more in vexation than anything else, but then he made the mistake of looking at his clone to see his reaction.

Seto was still stunned; it was very evident that he went into shock the moment he was met with hostility, but what Kaiba did not expect – indeed was perfectly sure he could not expect from an artificial replica – was the slight trembling of his features, the moisture brimming in his eyes.

"Isono," came Kaiba's voice, hushed and urgent. "Take him upstairs and stay with him." He then took off after Mokuba without another glance, leaving the two of them behind.

The sensation was overwhelming. Seto had never cried before nor received any information on whether it was socially acceptable for a young male adult to do so in front of others, but even if he had, it would have mattered little. The one person his sense of security depended upon obviously hated him, and once the natural response of tears had come, his body surrendered to it the way infants cry, raw and whole and unrestrained, propelled by emotions too intense for their young spirits to quell. Isono took one look at him and his heart jolted; he quickly seized Seto by the arm.

"This way, Sir," he said, dragging him towards the staircase, and Seto followed with stumbling steps and quaking shoulders, unable to stifle the broken sounds that tore from his lips and swelled into fragmented wails. The climb was long and Seto's grief was immense; by the time they reached the apartment on the second floor, he was sobbing in earnest and showed no sign of calming down any time soon.

Isono opened the door and pushed him inside, guiding him over to the huge bed in the middle, the only furniture that the hired decorators advised him not to move. His plan was to make Seto comfortable and let his distress run its course, but when he meant to press down on the clone's shoulders and make him sit, Isono inevitably looked him in the eye and found he had not the heart or the will to do it. Seto's eyes were large, larger than Isono had ever seen Kaiba's, his face drenched in a stream of tears that he could not wipe, and so, hoping he was not overstepping his boundaries but caring little if he did, Isono drew Seto into an awkward embrace, pressing him carefully to his chest wanting no more than for him to just _stop_.

It was new and strange, being held so close and so deliberately. It made Seto tense, his natural instinct prompting him to draw back, but Isono's body was warm, his arms resting on Seto's back enveloping him like living shelter, and soon he found his own arms sliding upwards to clench the folds of Isono's suit in the back, wringing them as he sobbed and mumbled and gasped for air.

How long they had stood there, Isono did not know. It felt like an eternity, but fortunately for Seto, Isono would have waited forever if need be, still cursing himself that he was much too old to feel that same past urge of wanting to take his charge far away from here.


	6. Chapter 6

**VI**

Kaiba had a fairly good idea of where Mokuba might have gone, and upon entering that hallway, the faint sounds resonating from the game room confirmed his guess. He opened the door and found his little brother glaring at the large screen in the far end, furiously mashing the buttons on his controller.

"Mokuba."

The game was obnoxiously loud, the volume obviously cranked to max.

"Mokuba!"

Mokuba tossed the controller on the rug and begrudgingly paused the game, now glaring at his Nii-sama. Kaiba folded his arms over his chest.

"Your words were uncalled for, Mokuba," he said, eyes unwavering.

"I don't care!" snapped his little brother. "I told you not to do this, I begged you a million times not to do it, Nii-sama!"

"I listened to everything you had to say and arranged for conditioning and modifications accordingly."

"You shouldn't have made him at all! It was stupid and selfish and _wrong!_"

"Enough!" cried Kaiba, his voice echoing in the vast space between them. Mokuba tensed his shoulders. "I had seen the future, I realized the opportunity and I took it! The core invention of this medical team alone was worth granting them funds to continue research – the cell growth gel and laser accelerator they have created could revolutionize medicine! Kaiba Corporation is a gaming company but all technology leading to a better future must be endorsed and supported. Hanji promised me that entire functioning organisms could be cultivated with this invention, that in return for allocating facilities and funds to this research, the first successfully crafted human clone would be my prize, something nobody else in the world has. He is _mine_, Mokuba, and while he is here, I want you to at least tolerate his existence because he is Kaiba Corporation's best chance to reach new heights. I have yielded to every other scruple you had. None of us can yield any further."

Mokuba clenched his jaw, snatching up the controller again.

"I don't trust him," he growled. "Keep him far away from me!"

"Your attitude alone will keep him far away from you," said Kaiba, just as displeased with the interview as Mokuba. His little brother whipped his head sharply away from him and returned to his game, determined not to show hurt. The soundtrack was once again blasting at painful heights and Kaiba closed the door, slamming it shut with more force than was necessary. After some hesitation, his next stop was his home office to make a phone call.

"Hanji? Kaiba."

"Kaiba-sama!" came Hanji's voice, pleasantly surprised and eager as ever. "How is he?"

"Hanji, I have a question for you. Is it normal for a clone to experience human emotion?"

There was a pause on the other end.

"I see no reason why not," came Hanji's reply, followed by a light snap that must have been them adjusting their goggles. "What happened?"

"He has met my brother and Mokuba seems to have upset him. He.. There were tears in his eyes."

"He cried?!" Hanji's voice was almost a shriek. "Wonderful! He did not wipe his eyes, did he?"

"I don't—"

"Of course he didn't, I conditioned him well! I bet he just let his tears pour down, he can't do anything else about it. It is logical that he should experience human emotion, Kaiba-sama – he has a human body after all, human nerves, human hormones. I did not expect him to adapt so quickly, but I should have known all the information we had given him would work in his favor. He's processing everything in perspective just like an experienced adult should be."

"So you're saying it is natural for an artificially created replica to feel upset and cry."

"Why not? Did you expect him to be like a robot, Kaiba-sama?"

"…No, I did not."

"There you go then: he's simply being human. Be sure to keep me updated on him."

"I will. …Thank you."

And with that, Kaiba hung up, his hand clenching into a helpless fist. What _did_ he expect? He was ashamed to admit that he had anticipated a live mannequin instead of a human being – it would have been convenient for Kaiba to work with a blank template, to endow his clone with proper manners, proper feelings perfectly calibrated for his purposes. Instead Seto was human, and apparently a sensitive one, too.

Kaiba sank into his chair and closed his eyes, hands clasping on the armrests for support. He would have to face him sooner or later, but not now, not yet. He did not want to see Seto cry.

* * *

In the meantime, Isono was at pains to hold, comfort and reason Seto into calming down. The clone was taller than him and all but slumped against him, hands clutching his suit in the back as his tears rained down the fabric, and there was nothing Isono could do but rub Seto's quaking back, to squeeze him and pat his shoulders in experimental ways, hoping that something would eventually work. None of these actions produced results by themselves, of course, but a repeated combination of them had succeeded at last. Seto gradually became still and quiet until all tension dissolved except for the tight grasp of his hands. Isono gave his back one more firm rub and cleared his throat.

"If you let go, Sir, I will make you some tea," he said, easing his hold. Seto's hands curled tighter around the folds.

"Do I like tea?" he asked, his voice trembling. Isono blinked.

"If you do not like tea, Sir, I will not rest until I get you something you do like."

That seemed to convince Seto; his hands loosened and withdrew rather clumsily from the tormented folds of Isono's jacket. He straightened and hung his head. His face was wet.

"Sir…" Isono reached into his pocket and pulled out his handkerchief. "May I, Sir?"

"You mustn't touch my eyes," replied Seto at once. Isono nodded and reached up to cup the clone's chin firmly and dab his cheeks dry, keeping away from his lashes. Seto's hands were hovering below, ever ready to push him away if he got too close. Thankfully, he did not have to.

Isono's original plan had been to give the clone a tour of the apartment from the full bathroom and large built-in closet to the home office in one corner and the kitchenette installed in the other, but by now, he was quite content to just seat Seto by the small table in the kitchenette while he scoured the cupboards and drawers for tea. He and Fugata spent the whole of yesterday shopping for food and last minute necessities; Seto's pantry was certainly not wanting in any respects. The electric kettle he had bought on the allotted budget was filled with water and whistled steam as Isono set out two mugs (deciding, very rightfully, that he might deserve some tea himself) and prepared a handsome tray with slices of lemon and lumps of sugar in a bowl, gleaming teaspoons and tongs and some napkins. He even managed to find a packet of individually wrapped tea biscuits to complete his display and was, all things considered, proud of himself for managing so well.

Seto was too preoccupied at first to take any interest in Isono's preparations. However, once the tray was placed in front of him, obviously made with care and effort for his sake, he relented and reached for the mug. Warmth spread into his fingers and his other hand came to cradle the mug, glad for that soft, delicious ooze of heat.

"It is very hot, Sir," said Isono, making a show of blowing at his own tea to cool it. Seto mimicked him, mesmerized by the rising steam, and took a sip. He was not sure what he expected, but tea seemed very strong, rich and even bitter. The face he made coaxed a chuckle out of Isono. "Try putting some lemon or sugar in it, Sir – or both."

Seto took the advice and plucked up a slice of lemon, letting it sink into his tea. He sent a lump of sugar after it, giving it a whirl with his spoon, and tried again. It tasted a bit sweeter, but he still found little pleasure in it beyond its warmth. He set it down, hoping it would somehow improve the longer it stood, and picked up the biscuit. Unwrapping it was tricky for inexperienced fingers, but the taste, oh, the taste was worth it. He nibbled it carefully, sparingly, with so much gusto that Isono kindly parted with his own biscuit for his sake. Seto was almost disappointed when no more biscuits followed. He took a few more sips of tea and then seemed done, still unsure if he particularly liked it.

"How are you feeling, Sir?" asked Isono when it became clear that Seto wanted no more.

"…Tired," replied Seto, fishing the word from his data bank.

"Would you like to lie down and rest, Sir?" The answer was yes.

The bed was rather out of place compared to the sensible moderation of surrounding furniture – vast, looming and austere, its canopies tightly drawn to their pillars as though using them should be out of the question. Everything else about it, however, seemed to invite and promise comfort: fresh bed sheets, large pillows, fluffy blankets. Isono pulled the latter back to make a large opening and Seto scooted into that space, legs drawn close to his body and shoes dangling over the edge. Isono untied them and pulled them off Seto's feet. The blankets were draped over him.

"Is it safe?" asked Seto, eyes darting to the door. Isono sighed.

"I will stay with you, Sir," he replied. Seto nodded against the pillow.

There was a moment of relapse as the memory flushed over him again, drawing more tears from his eyes, but there was little sound to accompany them this time. It was the tired wretchedness of an aching heart that had no more strength to give its sorrow full form, and Seto let his pain glide down his nose and seep into the pillow beneath. He closed his eyes and in a few minutes, he nodded off in momentary escape, tears still beading on his lashes.

Isono sat with him for a while simply watching over him, then treated himself to a small paperback from some large inner pocket of his jacket, fingers in search of the dog-eared page he was on. He was just within half a page of the next chapter when there was a small knock and in came Kaiba, letting the door click softly behind him. Isono stood and bowed, hands quickly tucked behind his back to hide the paperback.

"Seto-sama."

"Hn." Kaiba's eyes drifted to Seto, lingering on the dark circles under his eyes, his wet lashes, the melancholy arch of his lips. He shot a glance at Isono and then at the tell-tale tray in the kitchenette.

"He felt tired so I let him rest, Sir," explained Isono. Kaiba nodded and paused, fixing his eyes on his clone again.

"Don't coddle him too much, Isono," he said at last, his voice low. "If you let him grow soft, he will be useless to me."

Isono was about to argue but Kaiba shot him a look that locked him into silent indignation.

"The world is a cruel place, Isono. _Homo homini lupus est_. If we want what's best for him, we will have to sever his weaknesses one by one."

"…Yes, Sir."


End file.
